Fences
by JFW1415
Summary: One-shot song-fic to the song Fences by Paramore. Max and Fang are still just kids; only nine years old. They're still in the School, and Fang comes close to giving up...Implied FAX if you look hard enough.


_**D**__**ISCLAIMER: Maximum Ride belongs to James Patterson. Fences belongs to Paramore and whatever company they are with.**_

_**CLAIMER: Any new plot ideas and characters in this story are mine, unless otherwise noted.**_

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**Fences**

_I'm sitting in a room_

_Made up of only big white walls_

I woke up from my dreamless sleep and slowly took in the small room around me, futilely trying to find an escape. I knew I wouldn't find one, though. I had thoroughly searched it when Fang and I were first locked in here.

_And in the halls_

_There are people looking through_

_The window in the door_

_They know exactly what we're here for_

I watched as people walked by the window in the door. Almost every whitecoat paused to peek in at Fang and me. They were mocking us with their freedom, and our lack of it. But we would have it too. One day.

The whitecoats had thrown Fang and me in this room two days ago, without the rest of the Flock. Not a single one had been in to see us since we had been moved; they chose to simply observe us from that cloudy window. Fang and I were ravished; we hadn't eaten in over forty-eight hours.

I knew that they were planning something; I just didn't know what it was.

_Don't look up just let them think_

_There's no place else you'd rather be_

"Max," Fang whispered, uttering his first word in two days. "Does it feel…hotter in here to you?"

I sat there silently for a minute, focusing on the temperature in the room. It was so gradual I hadn't even noticed, but now I could feel every degree, every bead of sweat on my brow, as the thermometer ticked higher slowly…

Up…and up…and up…

_You're always on display_

_For everyone to watch and learn from_

_Don't you know by now_

Another whitecoat paused by the door. He smirked, but didn't look in. I realized that there must have been a thermometer outside of the room, so the whitecoats could record their data without entering the room. The man leaned in closer to the window and mouthed something to me, the smirk still on his face.

'One hundred thirty and rising.'

_You can't turn back_

_Because this road is all you'll ever have_

I leaned back against the wall, closing my eyes and trying to ignore the heat in the room. My body was adjusting to it, since it was changing so slowly, but I didn't know how much longer I could last. My vision was already blurring.

But I had to keep fighting.

_And it's obvious that you're dying, dying_

_Just living proof that the camera's lying_

Fang had given up years ago. He was silent, drawn into himself. He never smiled or laughed along with the rest of us, and he never showed that he was in pain. His eyes were dead. He was bound to give out in the heat before I did.

_And oh, oh, o-pen wide_

_Cause this is your night_

_So smile_

_Cause you'll go out in style_

_You'll go out in style_

I began to hear a buzzing noise in my ears. It slowly became louder, filling the silence in the room. My breathing became heavier.

_If you let me I could_

_I'd show you how to build your fences_

_Set restrictions_

_Separate from the world_

_The constant battle that you hate to fight _

_Just blame the limelight_

"You can't let it be so obvious that you are uncomfortable," Fang muttered, staring at the ground straight ahead of him. "You need to be immune to them. They're testing our limits; they'll retire us if we don't meet their expectations."

He raised his eyes to meet mine for a fraction of a second, and I caught a glimpse of emotion within them. I nodded slowly, desperately wishing that I could tear down the protective shield he always held around him.

He didn't need to be so strong for me.

_Don't look up just let them think_

_There's no place else you'd rather be_

I hear the doorknob turn, and my stomach instantly growled from hunger, expecting food. If I weren't so dizzy, I would have jumped up.

A whitecoat and four Erasers slipped into the room, quietly closing the door behind them. The Erasers growled at Fang and me, but the whitecoat silenced them with a simple command. They stood there, waiting for us to react. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Fang hadn't yet moved. The whitecoat smiled at this.

Fang was wrong; they weren't testing our limits. They were testing how long it took before our spirits broke.

_And now you can't turn back_

_Because this road is all you'll ever have_

I desperately wanted to get up and fight, but it was becoming harder and harder to keep myself from seeing three Fangs.

_And it's obvious that you're dying, dying_

_Just living proof that the camera's lying_

"Hello, Fang," the whitecoat whispered. "I'm sorry we haven't been able to spend our daily training sessions together lately. I guess you'll need an extra hard one today, right?" He smirked down at Fang, who still did not move.

Fang's sessions with the whitecoats were terrible, ten times worse than what they did to the rest of us. He used to tell me about them late at night, and they were gruesome, even without the worst details he kept to himself to protect me. Fang despised them, which is why the whitecoat was taunting him with it.

Fang should have responded to that taunt, but he couldn't. The whitecoats plan was working; Fang was losing his spirit. He had been for the past nine years.

_And oh, oh, o-pen wide_

_Cause this is your night_

_So smile_

"I guess I could always take Max instead, if you aren't up for it. What do you say, huh Fang?" the whitecoat asked smugly, knowing that he had touched a soft spot for Fang. Fang's expression changed slightly, and it seemed like he had finally found something worth fighting for.

_Yeah, yeah you're asking for it_

_With every breath that you breathe in_

_Just breathe it in_

"Don't you dare," he growled back. He stood up, despite the heat, and stood between the Erasers and me. He glared at whitecoats, his eyes showing the first emotion in ages.

Hatred.

_Yeah, yeah, well you're just a mess_

_You do all this big talkin'_

_So now let's see you walkin'_

_I said let's see you walkin'_

The whitecoat's grin quickly vanished when he saw Fang's reaction. Fang's spirit hadn't been broken, so they would be forced wait until it did. He turned on his heel and rapped softly on the door, and a guard standing outside opened it for him, allowing him out.

He was too much of a coward to face an angry Fang.

_Yeah, yeah, well you're just a mess_

_You do all this big talkin'_

_So now let's see you walkin'_

_I said let's see you walkin'_

Once Fang was satisfied that the whitecoat was actually gone, he turned and walked back to his spot against the wall.

"You're the coward," I whispered, hating myself for saying this, since he had just protected me. He didn't look at me, but he paused to show me he was listening.

"You act like you care when one of the Flock is in danger, then you curl up inside of yourself once the danger is gone. We can take care of ourselves, Fang." I walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, praying that he wouldn't pull away.

"The kids see you as a father figure. They don't need you to protect them; they need you to love them. They're just little kids. You can't just hide your emotions from the world forever."

_And it's obvious that you're dying, dying_

_Just living proof that the camera's lying_

Fang turned his bowed head away, stepping away from me, causing my hand to fall limply back at my side. "It hurts too much to care," he whispered. He walked over to the corner and slid to the floor, his eyes dead once more.

And oh, oh, o-pen wide 

_Yeah oh, oh, o-pen wide_

_Yeah oh, oh, o-pen wide_

_Cause you'll go out in style_

_You'll go out in style_

I sighed and followed him, sitting down and resting my head on his shoulder. I felt his muscles tense, but he was caught between the wall and me and couldn't listen to his instincts to run. After many agonizing minutes, the temperature still rising, he began to relax against me, although he stayed alert, ready to jump up at any second.

I looked up at my best friend and searched his face. Had I finally gotten through to him; would he finally begin to fight again?

His eyes were still dark and concealed, but they held a certain gleam in them, one I had never seen in his eyes before. It was hope.

He knew we would escape.


End file.
